The Fury of Winter
by theedragonslayer
Summary: It is not winter that one needs to worry is coming, it is the children's tale villain, the Others. The dead have risen from their graves in King's Landing causing widespread panic and mayhem. It has become a struggle not just to survive, but to live. Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

The Fury of Winter

**Brienne **

The water ran warm over her hands as she scrubbed futilely at the dirt underneath her nails. Accepting that she had removed all that was willing to be removed she turned off the faucet and grabbed a paper towel from the stack trying hard not to look up into the mirror. She hated looking in mirrors, always had and probably always would. She knew what she would see; close cropped straw colored hair, a nose that had been broken one too many times to heal straight, a wide set mouth with teeth that were only straight due to years of braces and the one feature she could actually stand about herself, her large blue eyes. Her looks and her tall frame and flat chest had earned her the nickname on the force of Brienne the Beauty. She tried not to let the name phase her, and often it didn't. She had dealt with far worse nicknames in her life. Besides, while the name originated out of scorn for her, being the one of the only women on the force, it had eventually turned into a name of companionship when she began to bring in more criminals than most of the force put together.

Her hands dry she exited the lavatory only to almost run into the police force captain, Jamie Lannister. "Brienne." He said with a nod of his perfect blonde head before continuing on his way down the hall. He did not respond to her mumbled "sir." either having not heard it or not caring.

Sighing Brienne walked through the office room that was cluttered with empty desks. There were only a few people left on staff in the building as it was closing on six o'clock. At this time the grave yard shift was out doing rounds and only two dispatchers and one officer stayed in to direct calls and help those who came inside. Brienne was due to leave any moment but she was waiting for Cateyln Stark to discuss security measures for her son's engagement party.

Brienne often worked private security for the Starks, had been the head of their events for the past four years since she moved to King's Landing. Gods knew she didn't need the money, what with her father being the head of a fishing company on Tarth that brought in more fish than all of Flea Bottom could eat in a week. She picked up the security job as a way to kill time that she otherwise had nothing to do with. Besides she liked Cateyln Stark and her large brood of children. Glancing out the main windows of the station she saw the long black car of the lady Stark pull up to the curb. The back door opened almost immediately and the younger of the Starks girls hopped out onto the curb. Swinging a bag over her shoulder she called what must have been a goodbye to her mother and kissed her elder brother on the cheek as he calmly stepped out of the car in front of her. Then she turned on her heel so fast her long brown ponytail hit her brother in the face and took off at a sprint down the busy street of King's Landing.

Brienne merely shook her head at the girl's actions, far to used to the unpredictable nature of Arya Stark to be very phased by it. She waited until the two Starks came inside before stepping forward to shake both of their hands and usher them back to her desk.

"Your daughter did not want to join?" she asked as they made their way through the cluttered office.

"She had fencing practice, the studio is only a few blocks away." Catelyn Stark explained as she settled herself in the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of Brienne's desk.

"Does she enjoy fencing?" Brienne asked, actually curious and not just trying for small talk.

"Very much. I wish she would take up something a bit more feminine but she is quite good at it and that's what I have Sansa for I suppose." Catelyn said, alluding to her elder daughter Sansa, a beautiful girl of nineteen who Brienne knew was as different from her sister as the sun was form the moon.

Deciding it was time to get down to business she offered them both a beverage which they declined.

Crossing her hands on her desk Brienne readied herself to work. "Now where have you decided to throw the party?" she asked knowing the last time they met there were several venues in question.

Robb shifted anxiously in his seat suddenly looking fourteen instead of his twenty-two years as Catelyn drew herself up and folded her hands regally in her lap. "We shall be having it in Stark Manor."

Brienne wrote it down on a blank sheet of notebook paper before looking up with a grin. "Old Walder finally gave up on having you all come down to the Towers?"

Robb Stark blushed nearly as red as his beard from the little Brienne could see of his face as Catelyn's blue eyes narrowed. "Actually Robb is no longer marrying Roslin Frey." Brienne's mouth very nearly dropped open in shock, only the full extent of her professional experience got her to keep it shut and keep her face carefully blank. "My son is now marrying Jeyne Westerling."

Brienne nodded as though this information made complete sense to her, which it most certainly did not, as not even three weeks ago the Starks were here planning for a wedding between Robb and Roslin. She did not even want to think about how angry Walder Frey was at the leaving of his daughter so close to the alter and then marrying another girl just as soon. No doubt the old man was thinking of ways to ruin Robb Stark right this minute.

Wondering how she could politely ask if anything besides the bride had changed she was spared as Jamie rushed into the office at that moment his perfect blonde head disheveled and a look of immense worry on his face. Not even looking at the two Starks, a sign that something was severely wrong as the Lannisters and the Starks were rivals in the business community, he stared straight at Brienne and said in a deceptively calm voice.

"Grab your gun and your gear. We have a problem."

**Tyrion **

The glass in his hand felt delectably cool as he passed it between his palms the ale inside of it sloshing lazily. Bringing it to his lips he stared hard at the TV before the bar in the hopes to drown out the echo of his father's voice in his head.

"You will never own this company." repeated itself like a broken record over and over again in his mind. Tyrion had been trying for as long as he could remember to take over his father's wine company, trying again and again to prove that he had what it would take to lead it. This morning he had finally gathered up his resolve to ask his father when he could move up the rungs to get one step closer to CEO when his father had merely looked down in unhidden disgust for his youngest son and evenly spoke the words that would not stop echoing in his brain in a voice that assured Tyrion this fact was common knowledge.

His glass was empty. He signaled the bartender for a refill. Struggling his stunt frame onto the bar stool had been a severe difficulty, made worse by the barley concealed chuckles of the blonde man at the end of the bar, but it was worth it when the bartender slapped another beer in front of him. Tyrion usually preferred wine but tonight he had chosen something that would not remind him of his father.

Which was incidentally how he had also chosen his current drinking location. A scummy bar a the end of Flea Bottom, the floor was sticky in substances that Tyrion refused to ask about and the bar stools were lopsided. The patrons were mostly large gruff looking men and a few women Tyrion was quite sure were whores.

He had always had a soft spot for whores.

The basketball game on the TV behind the bar suddenly cut out much to the chagrin of the man next to him. Tyrion could not hear the first words that the pretty young reporter said on the TV over the man's yelling.

Apparently his team had been winning.

When it finally seemed to dawn on the man that the report was on something maybe a smidgen more important than his basketball game he shut up and Tyrion was finally able to hear the voice of Mya Stone as she reported next to the large cemetery in King's Landing.

"Police are here on the scene now trying to calm down the crowds and apprehend the suspects. Suspects are garbed in morbid costumes that depict them as corpses and they actually went so far as to dig themselves out of graves, scaring many of the cemetery's patrons." something must have happened behind her because she turned and looked over her shoulder before beckoning the camera man after her. "Here's one of the suspects now." the camera shot to a tall and gaunt figure, nearly as white as milk. The hairs on the back of Tyrion's neck began to stand up as the young reporter approached it. He felt the incredible urge to yell at her to run just as the figure looked directly into the camera with eyes as blue as ice.

"Sir what exactly are all of you trying to accomplish here?" Mya Stone asked shoving her microphone in the thing's face. It looked down at her and the reached in the folds of the long black cloak it wore to pull a sword from its belt. Mya began to back away slowly her hands held up helplessly. "We don't want any trouble."

As the glass slipped from his fingers Tyrion could have sworn the thing smiled before it rammed the sword through Mya Stone's chest and out through her back.

**Daenerys **

Her pale hands moved quickly as they shoved her few meager possessions into a backpack, her brother shouting at her to hurry the entire time. She tried to tune him out as she cast her eyes over the dusty room she had been sleeping in the last week.

After their brother and his family were killed in car accident with Robert Baratheon that no one was truly sure was an accident Viserys and her mother had fled to Dragonstone where she was born and their mother died of complications. They were then sent across the narrow sea where they grew up, being sent to foster home after foster home. When Dani finally turned eighteen not even ten days ago they headed back to Westeros, her brother hell bent on recovering the remains of their family's company from Robert Baratheon.

"Hurry up you stupid whore!" her brother yelled angrily. Dani had just finished shoving the last of her clothes in the bag when her violet eyes fell upon the old box that the last man they stayed with in Pentos had given her as a birthday gift in secret. She opened the box slowly her violet eyes falling on the three stone dragon eggs inside. Not even thinking about it she shoved the box inside her bag and zipped it shut darting after her brother as he waved her down the stairs of the abandoned laundromat they had been staying at for the last week since their return to King's Landing. As they rushed out on to the streets of Flea Bottom Dani was astounded by the amount of people running past them in fear.

Viserys had been at the bar down the street when the footage had come on, showing the reporter killed and then the shot of the graveyard where hundreds more of those things were coming out, some still in the process of pulling themselves from graves. The graveyard was only a mile from Flea Bottom which her brother had reminded her plenty of times since he had arrived and demanded she gather her few meager possessions.

They pushed their way through the crowds on the street their hands gripped together tight as they nearly got separated in the confusion. They were darting across a street when the loud engines of motorcycles filled her ears and a large gang of bikers skidded to a stop as they nearly ran them over.

The muscular man on the fore front bike revved his engine at them, clearly expecting them to get out of the way. Dani could not tear her eyes away from his long black braid full of bells hanging from it. _Dothraki._ her mind whispered to her. They often formed motorcycle gangs and if the rumors were true than the bells signified how many people he had killed and the length of the braid meant he had likely never lost a battle. Her heart pounded at the danger of the men in front of them and she wanted nothing more than to flee from them in terror.

Viserys, though, had other ideas. "Let us join you." he barked in a voice that was far to close to a command. Dani looked at him in panic. One didn't just order around a Dothraki Khalasar.

The riders seemed to find it humorous instead of insulting as they merely laughed. "Why?" the large man asked in a heavy accent. "We would be protection. What do you have to give me in return?"

Dani looked at her brother in concern, they had nothing. The bikers scared her yes, but the man was right. They would be far safer with the khalsar against the things from the cemetery than they would be by themselves. Viserys seemed to agree with her on that as he pulled her in front of him and shoved her towards the man.

"Her. You can have her."

She must be hearing things. Her brother did not just give her away like a piece of property. But apparently he did because the man nodded and motioned them forward. Viserys was pulled on the bike behind a large man with a far shorter braid than the man before her. He put his arms around the other man's waist in disdain, his pointed noise in the air. Dani stood frozen in the middle of the street as chaos reigned around her. The man gunned his bike and shot by her, grabbing her arm and pulling her on the bike behind him. She gasped and wrapped her arms around his middle to keep from falling off. Her legs were on the same side, she was riding side saddle on a motorcycle behind a stranger with hundreds of bikes behind her going full speed down a crowded street.

Staring at the back of the man's leather jacket Dani noticed the dark red stitching of the word, 'Khal' as they rode off through the streets, people jumping out of their way at every turn.

**Eddard **

The stones of the Great Keep were slick beneath his feet as he raced down them. Rain had started to fall heavily into his eyes as he made his way through the thongs of frantic people to the parking garage. Just as he neared the entrance two cars who appeared to be trying to exit at the same time collided together at near full speed. One car careened into the wall ant the other flipped on its side. The exit of the garage now impassable Ned turned on his heel and began to sprint in the direction of the studio his youngest daughter attended for fencing lesson as it was the closest place someone in his family might be.

The streets were chaos. Everyone had either seen the footage of the grave yard or been warned about it. Everyone appeared to be fleeing, but to where he did not know. The only thought seemed to be to get as far away from the cemetery as possible which meant that he was running against the flow of the crowd in his efforts to reach his youngest daughter.

The crowd became a single entity as he fought his way past it, knocking aside hands and elbows until he finally saw the familiar sign above the studio's door. Shoving people aside he shouldered his way in. He followed the ringing sound of metal hitting metal and tore through the door to the fencing room to see his daughter still facing off against her teacher, Syrio Forel. Of course they were still practicing, neither had seen a TV to see the footage.

Arya caught sight of him from the corner of her eye. "Dad?!" she cried out as she made her way to his dripping form, dropping her sword to the side. He gathered her into his arms and let out a sigh of relief as her arms wrapped tight around him in fear. O_ne down._

"We have to go." he said looking at Syrio who regarded his wild eyes with enviable calmness. "The graveyard, the dead have risen. They are killing." Arya looked up at him in shock and disbelief while her teacher nodded calmly and turned toward the wall where sword sheaths rested. He grabbed the one for Arya's sword, the one Jon Snow had made for her, Needle, and tossed it to her. Without question his youngest daughter belted it to her side and sheathed her sword.

Syrio tossed Ned a sword as well which he caught one handed and copied his daughter's actions. "Be prepared to fight." Syrio said as they turned towards the doorway to the office only to find it blocked. A large and gaunt figure clad in a tattered black robe regarded them with blue eyes that burned like fire. Ned threw out his arm to push Arya behind him as she gasped. Syrio stepped in front of both of them as another figure appeared behind the first.

"Back door. Both of you." the man said calmly as he raised his sword in front of him. Ned began to push his daughter back even as she struggled against him. "Come with us." he said pleadingly, not taking his eyes of the creatures in the doorway.

"I cannot." Syrio never flinched as the creatures took a step forward into the room. Ned had his hand on the doorknob as Arya cried out her teacher's name in a plead. Without looking back at them Syrio called out to Arya.

"What do we say to the God of death?" his voice was still as calm as water and Ned felt his daughter stiffen behind him and call back in a voice barely above a whisper, "Not today."

Ned pulled the door opened and Arya and him spun out into a back alley rain soaking them almost immediately. They took off down the alleyway, side stepping trash and debris until they reached the mouth of the alley. A figure in black ran by them and Ned reached for the sword at his hip before he recognized the man. "Yoren!" he called out.

His black hair falling into his face Yoren sped to them calling at them to run as he did so. His back feeling suddenly cold Ned turned in trepidation to find himself staring into ice cold eyes. Arya let out a slight scream and he pushed her away from him. In the corner of his eye he saw Yoren catch her and begin to pull her away. She kicked out and screamed for him but Ned never took his eyes away from the creature in front of him even as it unsheathed a sword that glowed blue.

"Arya, remember I love you." he called out softly, "I love you all." her scream of terror was the last thing he heard as the creature swung its sword at his neck.

**Jon **

Shivering even in the relative warmth of the Lord Commander's chambers Jon Snow stared with disbelief at the television screen playing shots of pure madness in King's Landing. After five minutes are so of watching terrified people killed by the strange Others and then raising back up the Commander finally turned off the screen.

"King's Landing is falling fast." Lord Commander Mormont said as his raven flew down and perched itself on his shoulder. "Many are dying."

"Die die die!" the raven screeched and Jon regarded it with disdain.

"Is this the only city effected?" Samwell Tarly asked next to him. Of course Sam, large red faced Sam, would be able to think of other places even after seeing that destruction.

"Not that we have heard of yet. But King's Landing has the largest population of any city in Westeros. We need to send in reinforcements, their police force is already falling."

Jon did not like the direction this was going. Neither it seemed, did the men around him. Lord Commander either did not notice their discomfort, or more than likely he did not care. "You are all the best we have to offer. We cannot leave the Wall unprotected but we can help King's Landing. Go pack your gear, your plane leaves in an hour."

Jon knew the men with him had to want to protest as much as he did but no one said a word as they turned towards the door. On one hand Jon was terrified of those things he had seen on the screen on the other hand a more abject terror filled him at the thought of his entire family in King's Landing and he was almost grateful for the chance to find and help them.

"Gentlemen." the group stopped and looked back at the elderly face of Commander Mormont. "Good luck."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Bran**

Rubbing his head from where he had hit it on the doorway Hodor had forgotten to duck under Bran surveyed their surroundings gloomily. The high school gym had been devoid of life when they got there, a surprise to Bran since he had assumed people would have sought shelter here immediately While not the most practical of spaces it was large and one of the city's bomb shelters. Meera had been the one to suggest it so of course Bran had hopped onto the idea quickly. She had made several good points in its defense anyway. So they had packed as much as they could carry on their backs; mostly food, water and supplies, folded Bran's wheelchair and helped him onto Hodor's back in a sling made of blankets and ropes and started on their cold way.

The rain from two days ago had since turned into a light snow that coated the streets like powdered sugar. Bran could not remember the last time he had scene snow in King's Landing and could not help his mind from returning to the snowy hills and halls of his childhood home in Winterfell. Those thoughts only made him think of his family however and he was once again filled with blind panic of their whereabouts.

The day the creatures, The Others Jojen called them, had risen Bran had been at home alone save for his two friends and the gardener Hodor. Hodor was a large and simple minded man, the only word he had ever said as far as Bran knew was his name. But he had a magic touch with the plants his mother said and he was now proving to be invaluable as he carted Bran without complaint through the streets of King's Landing. When the TV had cut to the news footage Bran had wanted to go to find his family right away but the Reeds insisted they stay put.

"Your family will likely all come back here anyway. How will they find you again if you're gone?" Meera as always was the voice of reason.

But that had been two days ago and their was still no word or sign of any of his family. He had managed a call to his brother Robb before the cell towers went down but all he could hear from his brother's side was screams of terror and Robb's voice telling him to stay inside no matter what. The last thing Bran had heard before the line went dead was his brother's frantic voice.

"I'll find you! I swear to it Bran I will find you!"

But he hadn't and eventually they all agreed that staying in Stark manor was to dangerous of a place. With all of its windows and doors it was far to difficult to defend. So they spray painted in foot high letters in the main room that they were going to the high school gym (Bran felt a twinge of guilt as he helped deface the home his mother took such pride in) packed up their things and were on their way.

Having lost all contact with the outside world Bran was not prepared for the sights that awaited him once they made it off the hill where his house was and into the streets of King's Landing.

Many buildings were burned and charred ruins, some still smoldered as the snow fell on the remains of fire. There was broken glass everywhere and cars left with doors open in the streets or crashed into the sides of buildings. They saw no bodies, no injured people, which Bran took to be a good sign that everyone had made it to safety. He was beginning to hope that his family and the Reeds would be in the gym already when they got there. Instead Meera picked the lock to the locker room door and they made their way into a large and completely empty space.

Rubbing his forehead one last time Bran disentangled himself from Hodor's back and with the Reed siblings help settled into his wheelchair, cursing himself for being a burden. He had suggested back in the house that they leave him behind but they would not hear a word of it.

"We do not abandon our friends." Jojen insisted as he had tied Bran onto Hodor's back.

They settled against the bleachers after having checked all the entrances were locked tight and that they were in fact alone. The vast emptiness of the place seemed to mock Bran's hopes of finding his family here as they settled in for the night.

"We'll come up with another plan in the morning." Meera said as she curled up on her side when Bran insisted he take first watch.

As his companion's breath began to steady he found himself unable to stop bringing the faces of his family to mind as he kept his ears and eyes open for any sudden noises or movements. He buried his fingers in Summer's fur as the large wolf-like dog rested its head in his lap. The only sound was the rhythmic breathing of his friends and Summer's soft pants.

He began to wonder again where his family was. His father had been at work in his office in the Great Keep, Arya at her fencing lesson. Both very close to where the original outbreak formed. More than likely they were stuck in Flea Bottom or the unthinkable had happened. Bran quickly thought of his other family to delay thinking about his father and sister's fate.

His mother and Robb had been meeting with people for the engagement party, they could have been anywhere in the city when it started. Jon of course was safe at the Wall for which Bran breathed a small sigh of relief. Sansa had been at her boyfriend Joffery's house. Rickon had been out at the dog park only two blocks away with the Stark's four dogs when it all began. Bran was the most worried for his younger brother, surely he could have made it back the two blocks safely before anything reached their streets as they were about as far as one could get from Flea Bottom and still be within the city's limits. Besides that Summer had returned to the manor only minutes after they saw the reporter skewered by an Other on national television. Bran did not even want to think about why Summer would leave his brothers and sister behind.

His worry doing nothing but hurting him more Bran tried to block out thoughts of his family as he sat in the empty darkness with, for all he knew, the only other people left alive in the city.

**Theon**

Pushing his way through the dirty people crowded inside the police station to get to the guard wasn't easy but with a few well placed elbows and knees he managed.

"What's going on out there?" he demanded of the pale eyed officer before him.

The man raised his eyebrows, which were dark and heavy on his closely set eyes, and regarded Theon as if he was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"I don't know. Why don't you go out there and check?" he said in his soft voice.

Theon glowered at the man and pushed his way back through the crowd.

They had been playing this game once every few hours for the last two days. Theon demanding of news, the guard telling him to go outside. The only thing stopping him from going and wiping the smug look off the man's thick lips was the knowledge that once he went out there would be no coming back in.

Reaching the corner by the cells that he had claimed his own Theon hunkered down to wait the incessant chatter around him grating on his nerves. Part of him wanted to leave the refugee of the prison but he did not want to face what was out there alone. That was what had brought him in here in the first place.

Well that and the thought that maybe the cops would actually be useful. Instead of good cops, like police chief Jamie Lannister, he was stuck with the crappy ones that were only good for making sure the refugees who had made it to the prison before they looked their door didn't get out of hand.

So instead of cops who knew what the in the seven hells they were doing Theon was stuck with Ramsay Bolton.

**Sansa**

Glass crunched underneath her feet as she crept up the staircase slowly. She flinched at the sudden noise and froze, her companions looking back at her in reproach. The large man at the front of the pack, the bulky hideously scared Sandor Clegane waved them all forward, more angry at stopping then the small noise of glass breaking. Being more mindful of her step Sansa followed the small party up the basement stairs of the Lannister mansion. Sandor opened the door to the main floor of the house with extreme caution. They had been in the basement for two days that felt like an entirety ever since Joffery's uncle had called and demanded they retreat to the panic room in the basement. It had been a tight and uncomfortable fit and after two hours Joffery began to have a fit (honestly Sansa wondered what she had ever seen in him) and they left the panic room but stayed hidden in the basement waiting for word from Jamie.

Cersei had began to drink the moment they left the panic room, cracking open a bottle of wine from her father's company. Joffery's father, Robert, had been at work and they had not heard a word from him yet but Sansa did not think he was the reason Cersei kept raising the bottle to her lips. Tommen and Myrcella had stuck close to Sansa's side, avoiding both their drunk mother and brother and the brute of a man who was the Lannister's body guard.

Sansa could not help but feel panicked and trapped by the situations. Panicked out of worry for her family and for herself and trapped because she had come to Joffery's house to end their relationship and right after she finished doing so hell broke lose in the form of the villain's from her brother favorite bedtime stories, The Others. She had tried to leave the house but the Hound had grabbed her arm and pulled her into the panic room with them, not listening to her pleas of finding her family.

Part of her understood he did it to protect her but most of her still hated him for it, especially after enduring two non stop days of Joffery glaring at her and calling her less than favorable names.

The Hound waved them through to the main floor of the Lannister home, more accurately called a mansion. Sansa suppressed a gasp at the sight of it, all the windows were smashed in and three inches of snow coated the floor beneath them. The curtains were torn from the windows and most of the furniture was smashed or ripped. She suddenly found herself eternally grateful for the Hound because surely if the Others had not killed her in her flight to find her family than the crowd would have.

She carefully stepped over a broken chair, one hand held tight in Tommen's as he took in his family home with fear and tears in his eyes.

"We should leave here." the Hound growled in his raspy voice, she found herself nodding consent before he had even finished the sentence.

"No." Cersei refused putting her foot down right in a mound of snow. She frowned at it in disdain before glaring back at the Hound. "This is the first place Jamie and my father will look for me. I won't leave it."

"Then stay." Sandor said turning and heading for the kitchen. "Anyone who wants to live can come with me." Pulling her hand from Tommen's with no shortage of guilt as he reached back for her Sansa followed the large man out of the room and did not spare one look over her shoulder at the Lannisters.

**Samwell**

The snow in King's Landing could hardly be called snow when compared to that of the Wall. He rested his head back against the stone wall behind him and fought to catch his breath. They had been hiking through the cluttered streets for hours nonstop in the hopes of finding some survivors. So far all they had found were the dead.

Or more accurately the dead had found them.

Whatever hellish curse had caused this madness made those who had died raise right back up again and start killing. So far four of their troop had fallen.

And then risen.

He stumbled away from the wall and began to pick his way after his black clothed brothers, his rifle held loosely in his hands. He didn't know why they bothered to keep the guns, its not like they did any good against the dead.

Forcing his feet to move faster he caught up with Grenn who looked at him from the corner of his eye before facing front again. In front of them Pyp and Satin were speaking in low hushed tones, Dolorous Edd was in front of them staring at the snow churning up around his black boots. And leading their sad party was their squad leader, Jon Snow.

His black clothes stood out startling against the snow while his wolf like dog, Ghost, nearly blended in. Sam did not know what Jon had said to convince Lord Commander to let him bring his pet along but Samwell was grateful he had as Ghost was the sole reason the six of them were still alive.

After their troop was ambushed on the streets Ghost had managed to knock one of the corpses off of Jon and into the main window of a restaurant. The dog had followed it inside growling until it stumbled back into a burner that was still lit. Samwell did not know how the fire had not burnt the building up by that point but the moment the flame came in contact with the dead it lit up like it was dosed in gasoline. The men watched in fascinated horror as the corpse crumbled to the floor and the unearthly blue in its eyes went out.

Sam shivered, more against the memory than the cold as Ghost looked back at him on the dirty street his red eyes glowing like embers in the darkness.

**Arya**

Running her hand over her short choppy hair in unease Arya followed after Yoren on footsteps as swift and silent as a deer. He did not look over his shoulder to know that she was following him carefully down the dirty and deserted streets of Flea Bottom.

After the Other had beheaded her father (Yoren spun her away just in time for her not to see the complete action but he could not stop her from hearing the two consecutive thumps as both his body and his head hit the asphalt) they had fled down the streets and into the first unlocked door they could find. They hid in an empty apartment for a few hours before moving up to the roof to get a better vantage point.

The streets were chaos.

The black cloaked figures were killing anyone who they caught sight of. The bodies would crumple only to rise up again in a few minutes and join the massacre. After watching the madness for a while Yoren and her returned downstairs where he demanded she cut all of her hair off.

"Safer to be a boy." he growled as he shoved a pair of scissors he had found at her. She remembered her father telling her how Yoren was the most gruff person on his security staff but one of the best.

She did not complain, cutting the hair off around her ears. It was lopsided and messy but she realized it provided people one less thing to grab hold of as well as making her appear more boyish with her baggy sweats.

Yoren was right she knew. The Others might not care if she was a girl or a boy but the survivors might and she was not about to get raped by a group of men who suddenly thought it was okay now that the world had apparently decided to end.

They had stayed in the apartment building for three days, living off of a few cans the previous owner had abandoned here. The streets had been to full of the dead to risk fleeing the building, Arya was just glad none had come in here so far.

The sun was just beginning to raise when Yoren kicked at her feet. She turned her head to glare at him as she rested her hand on Needle's hilt. He nodded, it was time.

They had scavenged what they could from the building which wasn't much. Arya tightened the straps on the small backpack that now held everything she owned: two bottles of water, a lighter, four strips of beef jerky, a can of peas, toothpaste, an extra pair of socks, a bar of soap, prescription pain killers, bandages and a sewing kit. When Arya questioned the sewing kit Yoren had merely grunted, "Stitches." at her.

She severely hoped that was one needle she wouldn't have to use.

They headed down the dark stairs to street level where Yoren carefully stepped over the glass on the floor to step out of the broken in door. He stood in the street alone for a moment, looking around before waving her forward. Her hand rested on Needle's hilt as they began to head down the streets at a quick trot.

"Where are we going?" Arya finally whispered after they had gone five blocks. Yoren grunted at her to keep quite as he checked around the corner of a building and they continued on their way in silence, Arya quickly growing impatient. She knew they were making their way out of Flea Bottom but she did not know the area well enough to know where they would come out at.

They were running down the middle of a trash littered street, abandoned cars clustered on it when the first shots ran out. Yoren shoved Arya to the floor so hard she slammed her chin into the pavement, biting down on her tongue. Blood filled her mouth as a voice yelled from one of the buildings, "Behind you!"

Arya rolled onto her back in time to see one of the walking corpses pull itself out from underneath the car behind them. Blue eyes burned into her as she scuttled away from it like a crab her back now pressed against the cold metal of a KIA. Yoren was on his feet in front of her yelling something at her. All Arya could see was her father shoving her away before he was beheaded.

Shaking her head to clear the image she pulled herself to her feet just as a hand shot out from the car she was leaning on and closed around her ankle. She yelped as she was once again pulled back to the floor. Needle was out of its sheath and in her hand before she had time to think it through. The creature was pulling itself out as it pulled her to it. With a yell of rage she brought Needle down on the black hand enclosed on her ankle, severing it at the wrist. Black blood gushed out at her splattering her face.

Fighting the urge to vomit she kicked off the hand still clinging to her and regained her feet, her back pressed against Yoren's.

Her eyes darted helplessly around as the corpses began to pull themselves out from under the cars and she realized they had walked straight into a trap there way no escape from.

"Hey!" the same voice from before yelled though now Arya could see from where. Two boys, well men really, stood on the second floor balcony two buildings down. "Over here!" the larger of the two yelled waving them forward. Arya tore her eyes to Yoren long enough to see him nod.

"Go. I'll cover you." he grunted pulling his gun out from his belt. Arya's muscles tensed as he clicked the safety off. Somehow she didn't think bullets would be enough to bring down the dead.

"What about you?" she whispered suddenly full of fear. Yoren might be gruff and quite but he had saved her and her father had trusted him with not just his life but hers. Yoren was safe, the strangers on the balcony were not.

"Go." he grunted as two more creatures shambled towards them, their hands and feet black and rotting. One's face was half ripped off the skin peeling back, Arya could see the sinews and muscles on the inside of its mouth from where she stood.

"I won't leave you." she said stubbornly raising Needle to fighting stance like Syrio had taught her.

"Arya." Yoren bit out like it was physically hurting him as the corpses scuffled closer. "I'll be right behind you. Run." he fired his gun into the Other's face and she took off like it was the gun shot at the start of a race.

She sheathed Needle as she ran, sliding over the snow covered hood of a car a corpse's hand just missed grasping a fistful of her hair. She was suddenly grateful Yoren had her cut it. She neared the building about to dart inside the front door when a corpse stumbled out of it blocking her path. She looked up at the two above her., the large one looked paralyzed in fear as he shot the handgun down at the Other's fighting Yoren and badly missed.

"There's one here!" She yelled, terror lacing her voice, "I can't get in!"

The taller man hopped over the railing and hung from it like a monkey before reaching down for her. She was so short she had to jump to grad hold of his hand with both of hers. The corpse from the building was almost at her now as the man began to pull them both up. A small part of Arya's mind was impressed at his strength. The corpse was closer now, the smell of it filling her nostrils, and Arya felt the man's grip on her hand begin to slip. The corpse directly underneath her she put her boot on its face and kicked off, heard its nose crunch as she snapped it, and she was hauled the rest of the way up. The balcony's rial was cool to the touch as she staggered over it. Looking back at the street she saw Yoren hadn't moved but his gun seemed to be empty. He was hitting the things with the butt of it but they kpet getting right back up.

"Yoren!" she screamed, her voice holding nealry as much pain as it had when she had yelled out for her father.

"Run!" was all he yelled back at her without looking as the creatures seized on him at once and he was brought down beneath their weight between the cars.

A sob escaped her lips as she turned on her heels and for one of the few times in her short life Arya Stark did what she was told.


End file.
